


The Only Thing We Have To Fear.

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, First Times, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:56:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist





	The Only Thing We Have To Fear.

## The Only Thing We Have To Fear.

by Larissa March

Author's disclaimer: Not mine nor Larissa. She's borrowing them for the duration of her story while I'm just along for the ride :)

* * *

The Only Thing We Have To Fear... 

Blair sighed heavily and stared at his hands, which were swathed in heavy bandages. "Man, I hate this, I am so absolutely sick of this." He glowered at Jim's back as the larger man closed the loft door behind them and slipped past him to the kitchen. 

"Want something to drink, Chief?" Jim made a show of rummaging through the refrigerator, avoiding looking at the sulking man who dropped onto the couch with a final groan. "Sorry," he cut Blair off, "no beer with the pain pills, doctor said. Want a coke? Or some juice?" 

"Well then, give me a big, cold beer, Jim, 'cause I am not taking those pills." Blair swung his head, awkwardly flipping his scorched hair out of his face, and sank deeper into the cushions. 

"The hell you aren't, you're taking the doctor's prescription or you're going to find yourself back in the hospital faster than you left it." Jim cracked open a can of coke, dropped a straw in it and smacked it down on the coffee table next to the plastic prescription bottles in front of the fuming anthropologist. "She only let you out when I promised to take care of you and make sure you took care of yourself, and that includes taking all the stuff you're supposed to." 

He dropped onto the other end of the couch, studying his stubborn guide out of the corner of his eye. Sudden exhaustion pulled him down and he let his eyes drift shut, ignoring the elaborate sulking next to him. Their teamwork had caught an arsonist, but not until Jim recognized the man's smell when he came back to gloat while an apartment building burned. Jim chased the murdering son of a bitch down on foot while Blair saved a couple of kids who were trapped in the building before the fire department arrived, but Blair had gotten third degree burns on both hands and forearms, and burned off almost half of his mane of hair. 

Jim growled wearily and clamped both hands around his beer when he felt unseen hands try to wiggle it loose from his grip. "I'm not asleep, I'm not stupid, and you're not having any, Sandburg." 

He turned his head and opened his eyes, pitting his best icy blue just-do-it look against his friend's wheedling grin. 

"Come on, Jim, just one, and I have some herbal stuff that's better for my system than those pills anyhow. It's an old remedy that came from Peru, great stuff, all organic and way easier on my system, ok?" The grin dissolved into rolling eyes and a stubborn set to his chin when Jim didn't budge. "Dammit, I'm not a kid and I know what I'm doing. It's my choice, and you're not getting those into me short of holding me down and shoving them down my throat like a sick cat., so don't even think it." A glint of humor crept into his eyes when the corner of the sentinel's mouth twitched. 

"Oh no, I said DON'T even think about it!" He waved his bandaged hands in front of his face defensively. "I'll do an infusion of these leaves and some fungus, it's a natural painkiller with some antibiotic properties, and I've got this ointment for the skin, well, after it's healed up a little bit." He winced and plowed on. "It's just as good and..." 

"Stop right there, Chief." Jim overrode Blair's protest. "We're following the doctor's orders, or you're going back to the hospital. This is not open to negotiation, and I wouldn't treat you like a kid if you'd start acting more responsible for yourself than a ten year old!" 

Blair waved his hands and spluttered incoherently as the stone face settled back into immobility. They stared off from opposite ends of the couch for several minutes before Jim's stubbornly set mouth twitched again, and Blair started to snicker. 

Jim started laughing too and set his beer back on the table, then stood and leaned down to help his partner up with a hand under his elbow. "Come on, Chief, let's get you cleaned up and fight about it later, I'm too tired for this crap." 

"The irresistible force and the immovable object, that's us." Blair chuckled and sighed again as he pulled himself to his feet. "Ok, a hot shower and clean clothes first and then I'll convert you on the virtues of holistic medicine. Deal?" 

"As long as there aren't any coca leaves in this Peruvian painkiller, we'll talk about it." Jim smirked when Blair aborted a playful punch at his shoulder and turned towards the bathroom. 

Jim carried his beer out onto the balcony, idly following his partner's progress with his hearing and waiting for the call. 

"Umm, Jim?" 

"Yeah, Chief?" He kept his voice casual and his eyes on the skyline as he took another swallow of beer. 

"I, ah, have a little problem." Jim could hear his heart pick up, and a frustrated snarl under his breath. "I, um, can you give me a hand here?" Jim smiled ironically, took a steadying breath, and drained the bottle as he walked back in. 

"Sure, what's up, Chief?" He dropped the empty bottle in the trash and waited. 

"Ahh, well, I can't really use my hands, you know? And I can't put the plastic bags over the bandages like they said, and I can't, ah, undress myself to clean up or anything." Blair emerged from the bathroom still fully dressed. "This sucks, man, I really didn't think this out. How am I gonna do any damn thing for myself here? I can't dress myself, shave or wash myself, feed myself, use the computer for school OR police paperwork!" He looked thoughtful a moment. 

"Well, that's not so bad actually, you won't be doing the paperwork on this one." Jim couldn't resist pointing out. 

The silver lining didn't distract Blair long. "Hell, I can't even piss by myself, Jim, this SUCKS!" Blair looked ready to tear out what was left of his hair. 

"Calm down, Darwin." Jim said soothingly, patting the younger man's shoulder. "The hospital already thought of that, they talked to me before we checked you out, and we're gonna get you a home health aide for a little while to come in during the day, help you take care of things, ok? Nothing to panic over here." 

Blair's eyes narrowed and he paled, then flushed. "During the day, Jim?Yeah, that's great, but what am I doing at night? And how the hell am I paying for this? I don't have any insurance through the PD, and I'm pretty sure my college health insurance doesn't cover anything like this. I'm lucky they even cover hospital bills, or I'd be indentured to the hospital along with my descendants to the third generation for all the treatment I've gone through." 

Jim just grinned. "Generations of Sandburgs at the hospital? I dunno, Chief, sounds like a risky proposition for the hospital, to me. You're pretty high maintenance for a hospital." When Blair leaned against the bathroom door and scowled he just rolled his eyes and continued. "As for any help you need at night, I had medic training in the army, I can handle a little nursing care without doing either of us any serious damage. In fact, I'd better be able to," he continued, ignoring signs of impending panic from his partner, "because we can't get anyone in until tomorrow anyhow, seeing that it's now after 10." 

Glare met steel stubborn glare again as Jim mildly added, "You were the one who insisted on signing yourself out tonight. We could always just go right back, I'm sure that cute candy striper - Laureen? - would love to see you again. She'd be more than happy to ah, lend a hand if your modesty balks at my help." 

Blair's gaze dropped first, and they both pretended to ignore the heated flush that spread across his face. "Fine."Blair capitulated abruptly. "You want to play nurse, go for it, Jim. Right now I want a hot shower so bad I'd ask Norman Bates if I had to." He stomped back into the bathroom and yelled over his shoulder "I'm still having that beer!" Jim refrained from replying, or pointing out that Blair had no way to open the damn beer without help, and followed him in. 

"Actually. a bath would be a lot easier if you want your hair washed." Jim had never been so glad he was the one with sentinel senses, not his partner - if Blair could have known his responses as clearly as he could read Blair's there would be no chance of keeping this on a matter of fact, no nonsense level, and he was in deep enough as it was. He took the opportunity for a few deep, steadying breaths as he adjusted the water and started filling the tub. 

"Sandburg?" Jim turned around, looking inquiringly at the man sitting on the toilet with his wrapped hands in his lap. "C'mon, it's been a long day." He urged the unusually silent man to his feet and started unbuttoning his flannel shirt. Blair stared at his hands, or his feet, as Jim gently and impersonally undressed him down to his boxers, giving as little response as possible and not particularly helping or hindering him. He steadfastly refused to look at Jim until Jim stepped back without removing the boxers, alternating between alarmingly pale and frantic blushes. 

Jim cleared his throat and waited until Blair looked up. The stone face was in full force. "Your choice if you want to keep those on. I really don't need you having a stroke on me here, and the way your heart rate is spiking, you sound like you're going into a panic attack, partner." Unaccountably, he felt himself blushing, but that actually seemed to perversely make Blair relax a little. 

"Hell, nothing you don't have yourself, right? Sorry, I don't know what's got into me, I'm not really usually body shy, just a long day and on edge I guess, you know?" He took a deep breath and shoved the boxers down, avoiding Jim's eyes again, then grabbed a squeeze bottle from a shelf by the edge of the tub and clumsily squeezed it between his forearms. "Yai! Oops, sorry, umm, a little too much I think." The large glop of iridescent goop immediately started foaming under the still running water with a scent of patchouli. "And it's probably time to turn the water off too, Jim." He fumbled the bottle back onto the shelf and quickly slid into the water, keeping his hands high and dry and his eyes closed. 

He didn't see the stone face erode, or the lonely distance in his partner's eyes which was quickly hidden away behind fresh banter. "God, Sandburg, smells like a cat house. Duck your head, carefully, and I'll wash your hair." Jim busied himself with the shampoo and conditioner and silently blessed Blair's bubblebath, even if it stunk. Well, it wasn't any worse than the pervasive smoke and char smell from the fire, he told himself. Actually, he could use a shower himself, after.... Jim cracked his knuckles and measured out shampoo into his palm. 

"First off, sit up and lean forward, and I'll get your hair clean, no problem. Might want to think about trimming it now, to even it out some, got a big patch burned over here by your ear when you ran through the door, I guess. That was a real good save, by the way, in case Simon hadn't told you that yet. They were talking about some kind of citizen's award back at the hospital, you're getting some recognition for your heroics this time. There's no way the fire department would have gotten there in time to get the kids out of that first apartment, looks like that's where it was started, so you're a bona fide caught on video hero, Chief. You're gonna be on the 11 o'clock news, what do you think of that?" 

"I think you need to stop babbling and breathe, Jim. You're catching my bad habits or something here." Blair's voice was a little thin but much less strained, and his arms were resting comfortably on the lips of the tub as he bent forward in the middle of a raft of bubbles. "I'm sorry I was being such an ass, I appreciate your help, okay?" 

Jim bit his tongue and continued sudsing the hair thoroughly. He ran through the checklist quickly - heart rate quick but steady, body heat elevated, pupils not visible, visible skin flushed (but rationalizable by the hot water), pheromones definitely getting thicker - for both of them. A deep tub and lots of shielding bubblebath and a professional demeanor were definitely in order to keep up the idea that this was strictly for medical purposes only. Oh certainly, he mocked himself. You'd never think of tangling your fingers luxuriously through his mane of thick, shining hair. You wouldn't dream of rubbing lazy circles over his broad shoulders, teasing the silky, soapy skin, or nibbling down his delicious neck, exploring that strong jaw with your tongue or reaching around to pinch his nipples between your fingers until he moans... oh shit! 

"Jim, um, Jim...Jim, talk to me." Jim froze in stark mortification as he came out of his zone to find he had been matching action to thought, and while Blair wasn't quite moaning yet there was a definite lack of breath behind his gasps. "What's, ah, going on here?" 

"Oh my god." Jim couldn't decide whether to try and drown himself in the tub or just run away and quietly die of embarrassment in the other room. Preferably out of sight and sound of his guide, who was bound to have some really difficult questions for him right around now. Like what the hell was he doing! 

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the suds and water on his arms up to his elbows. "Sorry, Blair, so sorry." He ran blindly into the other room and was reaching for his keys when he realized what a perfect catch 22 he'd put himself into. He couldn't leave Blair there - he really couldn't do a hell of a lot of basic stuff for himself without help right now. That was how this whole fiasco had started, and even if he'd just gone and totally shot his friendship out of the water, he couldn't leave him stuck in a full tub, probably unable to even get out without getting his bandages wet without help. Definitely unable to dry or feed himself without help - god dammit, Ellison, he berated himself, what the HELL did you think you were doing? You faced this head on at the very start, thought it all through rationally and made your choice. You've been slipping around this for years now, keeping a safe arms length away from temptation \- so where the hell did your brain take off to tonight? 

He snarled at his reflection in a window and stopped himself with his dripping hand pulled back to slam it. 

"Jim?" The voice from the bathroom was very subdued. "Can you lend me a hand? Please? I'm stuck." There was heavy splashing as Blair tried to get himself out of the tub. 

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Blair...." Jim kept his litany up as he attempted to lift his friend from the tub without actually touching him, failing completely. Blair slipped and fell heavily, and Jim barely caught him before he cracked his head on the bathroom wall. 

He could feel his face painfully hot and red as he stoically lifted the smaller man bodily out of the tub, then handed him a towel and fled again up the stairs without a shred of composure. 

He sat in the darkened bedroom an interminable time, vaguely registering swearing, banging and muttering from the bathroom, then from Blair's bedroom. All he wanted was to sink into the deepest, greyest zone of nothing he could find, where he wouldn't have to know he'd gone and screwed up everything again. Where nothing could reach him, not need or responsibility, duty or hope, love or the pain and loss that always, always, always followed it. Where he could just sink lower into cold, grey mist and nothing.... 

"Jim, please, you have to come back, you're scaring me, man." Nothing wouldn't stay, something - someone - was holding him insistently. He reached desperately for the nothing but it slipped away between his fingers. Warmth kept creeping back in through the arms that were wrapped around his shoulders, rocking him back against a damp, hot, solid body half wrapped in a bathrobe, and through the strong, insistent voice with an edge of panic that kept wrapping as strongly around his mind, holding him and calling him back mercilessly. 

An instant replay of events in the bathroom unfolded behind Jim's eyes in heartbreakingly vivid detail and he moaned miserably, screwing his eyes tightly shut. Maybe if he dialed everything down to negative numbers he could convince himself nothing existed, including himself. 

"Ouch!" Startled, Jim lurched forward with a yelp and slid off the end of the bed onto the floor. He jumped to his feet and turned to yell at Blair, rubbing his shoulder. "You BIT me!" 

"Yep." Blair looked smug, sitting crosslegged on the edge of the bed. He'd worked his bathrobe on over his bandages, but the sash hung loose and there was nothing but Blair under it - a hell of a lot of Blair, Jim noticed as Blair started blushing furiously again. "Jim, don't go zoning on me again, man. It's flattering to have so much of your attention, but I'd much rather have a little give and take here, if you know what I mean. Preferably without having to bite you again to pull you back here and now!" A slow, sexy grin spread over his face as the blush spread down his neck and he looked entreatingly at Jim. "Can't I get you to come over here and take care of me some more, big guy?" He leaned back on one elbow , careful of his bandaged hands, and deliberately looked Jim over with the same intensity Jim had given him. 

Jim swallowed hard and leaned on the wall by the stairs, arms crossed defensively. This wasn't close to anything he'd imagined if Blair ever figured out this little piece of sentinel information - and if this was just a way for Blair to experiment and see what the reaction would be, he'd kill him. The thought was a bucket of ice water, and it let him put up an approximation of his stone face again. "Not a good idea, Sandburg. Not a good idea at all - you're got the brain, think it through." 

"You figure it's good scientific objectivity to jump your research subject? Or were you looking for a wider range of sensory stimulation to measure me on? Charts and graphs on sensitivity and recovery time, versatility and precision of the subject's control of sensory perception?" He sharpened his voice, cutting himself to the bone while lashing out to drive away the person he was so terrified of. 

"Or have you decided this is the price you'll pay to keep your test subject around?Good way to control more variables, get more leverage for tests, isn't it? A whole new level of control of my environment. Hell, you play it right and you might be able to parlay it into all kinds of new and fascinating chapters, with plenty of data and a real good hook for your paper." 

Jim took a deep breath that was half sob and whirled to crack his open palm against the wall hard enough to hurt all the way up to his shoulder. He heard Blair get up silently behind him, and braced himself for whatever he would say next. Whatever it was, he told himself, he deserved it and worse. 

"Fear based reaction, Jim." The voice was flat and very tired. "You think you can fool me with that? You've worn it out too much to even fool yourself \- that's an old, old, old, old way to fuck yourself up. Fuck us both up, and I won't let you." A pointed nudge with an elbow backed Jim up to the edge of the bed again. 

"Sit." Another jab and he sat, staring at the wall he'd just slammed. 

"Now, talk. Try truth, just for variety." Jim felt Blair's weight settle onto the bed next to him, but refused to say a word. His head felt disconnected but shiveringly busy, almost buzzing. It was like, he thought, an engine at full speed but with no gears connecting it to anything - impossible energy with no direction or outlet. He shuddered hard and bumped into the man sitting by him. 

"What do you fear?" Half zoned, Jim's vision suddenly filled with the ruined temple and he responded automatically without considering who was asking. 

"Pain. Love. Rejection." The words were ripped from him, then tumbled faster. "Being a fool who sees what he wants to see, just because I need it so badly. Being a fool who doesn't see what's really there, because I am so afraid, because I want to be safe, I want to be loved, I want to be alone, I want to be whole, I want, oh god, I don't know what I want anymore!" 

"God, Jim, who the hell hurt you like this?" Blair's husky voice carried a heavy mix of conflicting emotion as he struggled to modulate his voice into what they'd jokingly labeled guide mode. "Love isn't a guarantee of happily ever after, no kidding. But it's not a weapon either." He stumbled to a halt and reached over to quietly lay his hands on one of Jim's fists. Ironic, he thought, that his overrated way with words should fail him when he needed them most. 

He tried again. "Jim, you believe if you let yourself love someone they'll hurt you? Or that if you love them, you'll hurt them? Or am I completely misunderstanding?" 

"Both." the larger man sighed. "It always happens - you've seen. At least, you've seen some of it." He stood abruptly and paced back to the head of the stairs, his fists clenched and unconsciously half raised, as if to protect himself. Blair let his hands fall back to his lap, biting his lip, and tried to still himself, to listen with his heart for what his ears couldn't hear. 

Jim looked in his direction, but seemed focused on an invisible point halfway between them, considering his words bitterly. "You want a list? Mom left, Dad only wanted a non-freak, a NORMAL son around as a marker of his success as a father to spite her." He winced, and seemed to deflate. "So, I left, and did to my brother the same thing they did to me. I struck out, figured I could choose my own family, make relationships on my own that meant more for my choosing them. What did I get?" 

He suddenly focused on Blair again, a weary, self loathing gaze that caught his shocked eyes. "You've seen a pattern here, following me around, haven't you? Everyone in my life leaves, gets pushed away or dies. Or worse, comes back just to betray and use me, and THEN dies. My men who died with me in command, Danny Choi, Lila, Jack, Veronica, Carolyn, the list goes on and on. And I'm as bad as anyone - damn, now I can't even remember her name, that woman with the mob I went and fucked, just to prove I could." 

"You're the one person, I convinced myself, who was... safe. You were my little brother to protect, my comrade in this 'war against crime'," he mocked gently. "You were a lynchpin to sanity when I was convinced I was cracking up, and then when you made me realize I wasn't, you were the one person I didn't dare keep safely away from. I had to trust you." His face twisted as if the words were bitter. "And I had to keep you safe, because if I didn't have you anymore, that was it. But I couldn't get too close either, because I knew that would be it, so you were someone to protect, but never hold onto too tight because if I hold onto things tightly I break them, you see? But I need you close, with me, and I need to keep you safely away...and you're so goddamn beautiful!" He scrubbed his face harshly with his palms and sat heavily on the top step. "Bet that didn't make a damn bit of sense, did it? What a fuck up." 

"Yeah, it did." Blair responded slowly, trying to find words that wouldn't sound pitying or trite, but wouldn't hurt the clearly battered man sitting in front of him and would still hold the feeling of truth he was slowly digging out of heart, a bit at a time with fine precision tools, like an archaeologist excavating a delicate artifact. 

He stalled for a little time. "Can I come sit by you? It would make this a lot easier - I'm getting a good idea of why you touch more than you talk. All my words have gone underground here, myself." Jim didn't move or speak, so he took silence for assent. 

"Jim," he said, sitting carefully to preserve some space between them. "I have to tell you something here." He spoke slowly, as if words were grenades that could explode if handled carelessly, maiming them both. 

"I never had a whole lot of faith in love either. Naomi was always into 'detatching with love' but it really came down to not getting too attached in the first place. She always seemed to have some new boyfriend rotating into or out of our lives, and I got left pretty casually with relatives and friends whenever having a kid around became inconvenient for her." 

He shrugged. "The name of the game was not caring, just going with what I could get and enjoying it for whatever it was worth, and not letting anyone be so important that I couldn't shrug it off when I lost them. I always did, after all." His voice was as matter of fact as if describing a chili recipe. 

"The trick, I figured, was sort of let it all slide by, not to let any of it matter - but you do, Jim. You matter way too goddamn much to me. So when I started talking about fear based reactions, I really was describing me, too. I just sort of come at it from the opposite direction." He took a deep breath, looking pensively down the stairs. "The point I'm making, though, is that this isn't about making a decision to trust or love eachother. That's already done, we did that, god, years ago now." 

Jim flinched as if stung. "Think about it," Blair continued softly. "You think I jump out of airplanes for just anyone? Hell, you think I throw myself under moving garbage trucks for total strangers on a regular basis? And like you just pointed out, you've been trusting me with your biggest secret from the day we met, trusting me to help you with something you had no idea how to get a handle on. You've followed my lead on the craziest things, even when you knew I was winging it with a guess and a theory. We've lived together for how many years now? Practically in each others pockets - we live together, work together, go on vacation together, probably spend more time together than most married couples." Blair's voice picked up strength as he expounded on his theme. 

"Trust isn't even a question with us anymore, it's a given. We've started taking it for granted, I guess. Maybe that's why it hit me so damn hard when you said I'd betrayed you and kicked me out of the loft." He overrode Jim's attempted interruption. "Maybe that's why it felt so much to you like I really did betray you with Alex, but that's not the point either. My point is - and I do have one!" he added, coaxing a wary smile from Jim's still face," is we have trust, and we know we do. Do we have love?" 

He paused a moment, but Jim stayed still, looking just past his face at the wall with unreadable eyes. "I want you, Jim, so much I wake up in the night sticky and gasping from dreams of you." He watched Jim's small smile and smaller nod of confirmation. "Yeah, I figured you knew, can't slip this stuff by a sentinel in his own home." He casually laid one hand on Jim's leg. "You knew. I was lashing myself for wanting someone who didn't want me, for sticking around and playing the fool over someone as necessary as breath and unattainable as immortality, and you knew, and you never said a fucking WORD, Ellsion!" His voice was suddenly ragged and he stopped, biting his tongue. 

"I told you why. Just now." Jim was uncharacteristically tentative, apologetic. "I couldn't go back, didn't dare go on. I didn't believe... didn't think it could be anything but pain. I still don't know." He raised his hand aimlessly, then gently dropped it on Blair's, eyes closed. 

"Okay," Blair said. "Words only go so far, but let me give them to you as bluntly as I know how, because someone's got to say it here." Laughter laced his expressive voice. "Jim, I trust you, love you, need you, and I want us to fuck each other silly until we're old and creaking. I want to prove by time and actions what words will never convince you of - I'm here, nowhere else, and I am staying here, with you, for as long as you'll have me. And I'm too damn stubborn to drive away, so get used to it." He raised his eyebrows and grinned rakishly at his sentinel, who started chuckling. 

"Such mushy, silvertongued romance, Sandburg. I hear Hallmark is looking for valentine card writers." He twisted to look at the younger man sitting so close. "You know you're nuts, right?" He reached out with a gentle finger to trace his jaw. "I'm a sorry bargain for you. I'm old and scarred and selfpitying, you deserve so much better." 

Blair grabbed the finger and glared at him threateningly. "Did I ever mention how much I hate it when you tell me what I should do for my own good? Let me point something out, if I deserve anything, then I deserve to make my own choices. So, what do you say? I've been doing all the talking here." 

"Like you pointed out, Blair, I talk best with my hands." Jim quipped. He leaned forward, cupping Blair's head in one hand as he kissed him hard, darting his tongue against the lips that quickly opened for him. 

"And other assorted body parts." he gasped when they broke apart for air. Blair's smile was incendiary. 

"There's a wonderful soft bed behind us, you know." he murmured. "I'd hate to find splinters and bruises in, ah, sensitive spots from these stairs." 

He beat Jim to bed, mostly because he had only an unbelted bathrobe to lose, and heaped the pillows to lean back against as he watched his friend hastily undress with an irrepressible smirk. 

"Any last words, Sandburg?" Jim growled as he pounced on his very willing victim. 

"We who are about to die... mmmmph!" Blair found laughing and kissing didn't mix at all and opted for kissing for a long, sensual time as the new lovers explored together with growing confidence. 

"Just one rule, Blair." Jim paused, his fingers carding through Blair's chest hair and his eyes suddenly solemn. 

"No, not another House Rule, man!" Blair whimpered dramatically. "What is it, the guide is required to sleep in the wet spot?" 

"Nope, though that's not a bad idea." A grin flashed briefly on his face. "Actually, it's about what you... we were both saying earlier. I don't want anyone else in this bed with us." 

Blair looked puzzled. "You mean you want to be exclusive, just the two of us? I kind of assumed that, sure. Glad we're on the same page on it, anyhow." 

"Not exactly," Jim hedged, "though that too. I mean all our old ghosts, the fears we let get in the way, they stay out of this bed. Here, it's just the two of us. Right?" 

"Absolutely, big guy. The way it was meant to be. 

End 


End file.
